


Coming Down

by Neosiuss



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Domestic, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5610364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neosiuss/pseuds/Neosiuss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian was raised to believe he would never be happy. People like him don't deserve happiness, and he's quite aware of it. One husband and a mabari later and he still can't come to terms with his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Down

**Author's Note:**

> " I've got a lover I love like religion, 
> 
> I'm such a fool to sacrifice "
> 
> \-- Halsey, Coming Down

If you asked Dorian about his past lovers, he could tell you how many he's had, what their names were, their professions, and their MO. If you asked Dorian whether he knew his lovers, he would laugh at you, claim that there was no place for _knowing_ someone's lover in his world. He didn't have the luxury. And he took it in stride, knowing that he would one day have to bend to his father's will or die trying.

 

Which made stumbling out of the brothels as the dawn broke less embarrassing for him.

 

If you told Dorian he would find love, he would have laughed at you. He would have laughed hard and long, but had you insisted he would have asked, quietly and hopefully, when, where, who, what did he look like, was he kind? He wouldn't have believed you, but the hope was enough to get him through.

 Dorian believed wholeheartedly he would live like his parents; hating his wife and not wanting to be in the room with her, criticizing their child because he was so unhappy with his own life he couldn't stand to see them successful. Happiness wasn't for him, he didn't deserve it.

 It's early in the morning and tendrils of sleep still tug at the edges of his vision as he stares up at the ceiling, too ingrained in his thoughts to notice the shift of the bed next to him. It's not until a warm arm drapes around his middle does he look down to the mess of blond curls on his chest.

 

_Cullen_.

 

To liken Cullen to a storm would be wrong. Cullen was quiet and gentle, the exact opposite of a storm. But he wrecked Dorian's world and the walls he'd built up so quickly, Dorian couldn't think of anything else to compare him to. You know when a storm is coming; the animals disappear and the wind picks up. But Dorian didn't expect Cullen.

 At least, not everything Cullen brought. The gentle words exchanged in the alcove of the library in Skyhold, the even gentler touches to his wrist and waist. All cute foreplay, but Dorian was ready to just get it on with. Soft touches gave him feelings and he was having none of that.

 So why is he here, in Cullen's bed, a ring on his _bloody_ finger? If you asked Dorian, he would tell you he didn't know.

 It wouldn't be a lie, but it wasn't the truth. He knew exactly why he was there, why he stayed, why his chest felt tight every time Cullen gave him that lopsided smile when he woke, eyes full of sleep and hair in his face. He'd only said it aloud in their bed and at the altar, whispered so quietly it was easy to miss.

 He would never come to terms with their relationship. It was disgustingly domestic and made his teeth hurt to think of the sweet picture they painted in this idyllic storybook setting. A farmhouse, a dog, and a retired sword and shield hanging on the mantle.

 Cullen stirs again and Dorian looks down at him. He's pushed his curls back from his face and he looks up at Dorian with wide eyes. It's not yet early, but it's reaching that side of late and Dorian hasn't slept at all.

 “Dorian?” His voice his thick with sleep as he sits up and Dorian shivers for the loss of warmth.

 “Hm?” He tries to sound detached, like he's as sleepy as his lover. Cullen sees right through him.

 “What is it?” The question is full of concern and Dorian feels unworthy of it. He wasn't meant for this domestic life, he doesn't deserve it at all and he can't quite figure out how to voice this to Cullen without offending the man.

 “Nothing, amatus. A bad dream is all,” He smiles softly and leans forward to kiss the concern from his lover. Cullen dodges him expertly and Dorian knows Cullen is giving him a stern look.

 “You haven't slept all night,” Damn Cullen and his habit of light sleeping. Dorian sighs and sits up as well, rubbing his hands over his face.

 “Ever the observer, amatus.”

 “Stop,” Cullen's voice is stern but not angry, and he rests a hand gently on Dorian's back. “Tell me what it is, love. Let me help you.”

 Dorian cringes at the soft plea and pulls himself away from the warmth of his husband's hand. “My head,” he starts to make an excuse of a headache but thinks better of it. “I can't stop thinking. About—about us. This whole domestic shit and I--,” he pauses to take a breath, squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the tensing of Cullen's shoulders. “I don't deserve this. You. Any of this,” he gestures around the room. “I keep thinking I'm going to wake up at some point, and I never do and I'm _terrified_ , Cullen. Bloody terrified and I don't know what to do.”

 Dorian can't see Cullen's face but he can imagine it: a frown accompanied by glassy eyes that search his face for answers. “Do you... not want this?” Cullen's voice is weak and Dorian sighs.

 “I... Yes, but I...” he trails off, unable to form his thoughts into sentences. “Cullen.”

He conjures a magelight and turns to his lover. Cullen looks exactly the way Dorian imagined him, and his hand darts up to catch a stray tear. Dorian frowns and reaches out to take the warrior's hands gently, earning him a confused look.

 “Maker, I love you.” He speaks without thinking and Cullen blinks. “I love you, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, and if I didn't want this I wouldn't have said yes when you asked me.”

 “I don't.... understand?” Cullen states cautiously, his head tilting slightly to the side. “Dorian, we've been married a year. What brought this up?”

 “I grew up knowing I would never have a life like this and I still can't quite believe it.” Cullen frowns at his words and opens his mouth to speak but Dorian stops him. “You're a literal knight in shining armor, amatus. It was a long day, and you know how these things are, hm? Once you start on a train of thought you can't quite stop it.” Cullen nods in understanding, and Dorian lets out a sigh. “Cullen, I love you, and I love our dilapidated farmhouse--”

“Hey!”

 “And,” Dorian continues. “I love our smelly, slobbering dog.” He finished, and Cullen is smiling softly. Dorian's heart swells and he can't help the smile that comes across his own face. “And I'm rather grateful for all of it. I'm not a religious man, but I would say I'm thoroughly blessed.”

 He comes to the realization on his own, and it feels liberating. Cullen simply pulls him closer and kisses him, and he melts happily into it. He deserves happiness, and there is a place in this world for people like him. He still doesn't believe it, still thinks he'll wake up one day and he'll be back in his bed in Qarinus with a massive hangover and disappointed parents, but his worries are quieted when Cullen pulls him to lie back down.

 If you told Dorian he would eventually be okay, and that he would stop being kept awake at night by his insecurities, he would smile politely and thank you, but state there was no need to lie to him. He would never be okay, and he would never get through a month without a night like this.

 He was coming to terms with it, and the understanding his husband provided was enough for him.

  _He_ was enough.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I, personally, believe that under all his pomp and circumstance, Dorian is insecure af and believes himself not good enough for whomever he winds up with. also i deal with my mental illness by writing my fav characters with it *shrugs*


End file.
